Opus Relinque
by Kyilliki
Summary: A little bit of Caius/Athenodora fluff, set immediately after Caius' confrontation with the Children of the Moon. Written for a request.


**Title:** Opus Relinque

**Pairing: **Caius/Athenodora

**Fandom:** Twilight

**Author's Note:** This one-shot was written at the request of Team Caius and sumera, who wanted something about Caius and Athenodora, preferably fluffy. I am not adept at straight-up fluff, and I've been told that I portray Caius and Athena as too harsh and too creepy respectively, so I feel a little out of my depth here. I apologize in advance if this is not what you were asking for. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy.

For those who have not read _Breaking Dawn,_ Caius was mauled by werewolves at a point during his long and militant career. I imagine that everyone would need cuddles after that ordeal. That idea prompted this story.

The title of the fic is taken from a song by Tristania of the same name, from the album _Beyond the Veil_. I just happened to be listening to it while writing, because I tend to be inspired by gothic metal. No hidden meaning here.

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.-.

After the muffled curses directed towards the gods-damned Children of the Moon had faded from his lips and Aro's labyrinthine questions has passed, Caius was left alone with the agony of wine-coloured wounds spattered in stains over colourless limbs and drying clots of burgundy in his hair. The night's silence consumed the castle in deep gulps, and the only respite he could think to seek was that of the cavernous baths.

Throwing his clothes onto delicate tiles that etched images of gods and gamboling beasts upon stone, he stepped into the seething, lapping water, biting away a hiss of hurt as the heat coiled around shredded flesh. Defeat's shameful shroud was as difficult to endure as the raw ache of shattered bone, and for a moment, he only wanted to curl around himself like a child and await the morning.

The rapid patter of thin feet on mosaics was unmistakable to Caius' ears; Athenodora had yet to master the art of moving with quiet, ghostlike dignity, generally opting to sprint without shoes, a colourful, erratic blur of marble and crimson. His primary instinct urged him to move into deeper water, concealing the worst of the gouges and tears marking his skin in vicious constellations beneath blue-grey ripples and swirling steam. The corner of his world occupied by chalky ashes and flame was not his wife's realm; those were horrors that remained tightly pressed to his chest.

Caius' mate slipped into the bathing chamber, her toes sliding on the moist floors. She curled herself neatly at the water's edge, the hem of her tunic turning a darker shade of pale where the floor's dampness leeched into the fabric while her mood remained inscrutable. In her ruffled state, she was lovely; for a moment, the mist of pain lightened and Caius only wanted to kiss the purpling bruises beneath her eyes to coax a smile from her.

"Let me see," Athenodora ordered, extending a slender hand. He remained where he stood until her incongruously stern expression convinced him that she was not above pinning him to a wall and examining the extent of his injuries.

Caius sighed, drawing close enough for her to reach him with outstretched fingertips. Immediately, she ran curious palms over his chest, stopping at the heavy ridges of seaming tissue upon his shoulder where his arm mended itself after being torn away and the deep gouges where lupine teeth had closed and tugged. Though her touch was soft, the wounds smarted beneath it, pain flickering in blue bursts where a careless nail brushed raw flesh. Regardless, Caius could not help leaning into the barbed caress.

"You promised me that you would not get yourself killed," she said. "I think you lied."

He could not help grinning a little. "I apologize, Athena. This was an unintentional disaster."

In a fluid motion, Athenodora knelt and wrapped her arms around him, cradling his head at the hollow of her throat. The embrace was slippery and clumsy, emphatic with love and worry.

"If my ribs were not fractured before, you've certainly accomplished that now," he told her, not attempting to extricate himself from her hug but aiming to smooth away the angles of a scowl that were undoubtedly etched upon her features. "Your hair is in my nose," he added, when she showed no sign of letting go.

Finally, she sat down once more, and Caius caught her fingers in his.

"Please, Cai, do not pursue the Children of the Moon again. You are infinitely preferable when you are not in pieces."

He could not assure her of that, but neither could he bear the hollow ache in her garnet eyes, likely caused solely by him. Instead, he searched for a way to divert her attention, and chose to loop his arm around her waist and tug her into the warm water. If that did not curtail her concern, nothing would.

After a few moments of irritated thrashing, Athenodora resurfaced, her tunic clinging to the graceful arabesque of her spine, tendrils of hair veiling her features.

"On second thought, I'm significantly less fond of you now," she announced. "I will not be concerned when you are chewed apart by giant dogs."

He kissed the bridge of her nose, swiping away matted silver strands. "That's my girl. You worry me when you are being too kind."

Her smile turned wry. "Do not start with me, or I will be forced to splash you. The violence will escalate into a water fight, and rest assured, I _will _win."

Caius pulled her into his embrace again, as the previous situation reversed itself and he held her too tightly, his unwounded arm cinched around her waist in a steely band. Conversations with Athenodora were always bright, too playful to permit words of tenderness. The press of bodies afterward communicated love and longing; he prayed that she understood what he could only express through touch.

"Tell me what happened," she said, meeting his gaze steadily, her request tentative and curling at the corners, fragile as ancient parchment.

"It is not—you do not need to hear about it."

"You listen to my fears, always. Perhaps it is time for me to return the favour."

"I am not afraid," he insisted, and she knew not to press the point; she did not wish to turn fractures into fissures. Instead, she knotted a hand through his snowy hair and rested her head on his shoulder, slow fingers tracing patterns on his scarred spine until barriers crumbled and fell, bringing a torrent of pained speech with them.

He spoke of darkness and transformation, of wolves that lost their sanity alongside their human form for one night of every month. The memories of fright, the cold, inevitable terror found at the edges of death marked his words, more than hurt or wrath, and that in itself was alarming. Silence replaced his ragged whispers with time, though neither Caius nor Athenodora relinquished their hold on one another, pressed skin to skin with the quiet tenacity that only immortals possessed.

.-.

"It's dawn," she said when crimson light crept through arches in lazy, pooling rays that drew pomegranate refractions from her skin.

"Perhaps we should return to our rooms before the guards begin their rounds. You look half-drowned. All remaining delusions about your sense of propriety will be dispelled if anyone sees you like this."

Athenodora grinned, reluctantly moving away from her mate to scamper out of the water, and studiously began wringing out her tunic while Caius dressed.

"Has Aro at least excused you from your duties this morning?" she wondered.

"Yes. He said something about resting, and then I no longer listened." Caius straightened, the neatness of his clothes drawing attention away from the scratches marring his neck.

"Of course. Being confined to bed is practically required," she said, and the smile gracing her berry-dark lips promised that he would not be leaving their room, for one reason or another.

"Being in bed with you can certainly be described as _restful_," he agreed, ruffling the sodden, shimmering waves of her hair.

"I will be gentle, I promise."

He looped his cloak around her twig-sharp collarbones, a lingering, mortal desire to prevent her from catching cold spurring the gesture. "I like you. Have I mentioned that recently?"

"After five centuries, you may consider it noted." She slipped her arm around his waist, standing on dainty tiptoe to brush a kiss, light as moth wings across the angle of his cheekbone. There was a slight hesitation in his footfalls and a bemused expression danced over his features, only visible to the woman by his side. She let the quiet tumble around them for a moment, then said, so gently that it could be overlooked, "You will be alright."

For the first time during the bleakness of the slate-tinged night and the bloody dawn that followed, Caius felt something feathery, akin to hope, shudder between his ribs. It should, perhaps, have alarmed him that the slender woman pressed to his side lightened the dark that clung to his mind more than sun and firelight ever would, but he could not help believing her words.

A mirrored smile, a kiss, silence.

.-.

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**Author's Note:** I apologize for any grievous grammatical errors. It is four in the morning now, and I am going to sleep. I will give this another read-through in the morning, and when I say morning, I mean late afternoon.

Reviews will be greatly loved.


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